


All I Want For Christmas

by whip_pan



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9041537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whip_pan/pseuds/whip_pan
Summary: Ron and Carwood take the next step in their relationship on Christmas Day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, if you're celebrating! Enjoy this little bit of Christmas fic, I couldn't resist <3

The first year Carwood spent Christmas with Ron, they’d been cramped together in Carwood’s old bedroom. He’d woken up with Ron’s elbow poking into his side, listening to Ron’s heavy snuffles - he’d been fighting a cold the past week - and if Carwood wasn’t in love with him by then, the kiss they’d shared at New Year’s had sealed the deal. Carwood’s mother had told him over the phone the next week, when he was back in Boston with Ron, that he’d looked at Ron the same way his father had looked at her. He’d told Ron that very same day that he loved him, whispered it into his ear while Ron lavished his neck with kisses. Ron had stopped his work to stare at him. “Really?” he’d asked, but before Carwood could repeat himself, he’d smiled and drawn him into a tight embrace. 

The second year they’d spent it in Boston. They’d lazed about in the morning before going to Ron’s family for a formal dinner in the evening. For some inexplicable reason Mr. Speirs, who rivaled Ron in stoicism, really liked him, and he’d endured hours of storytelling at one end of the table while Ron sat at the other with his sister. Carwood’d managed to slip away from a lengthy conversation with one of Ron’s uncles during the after-dinner drinks; he figured he ought to know this by now, but the Speirs’ practically only talked about hockey, and if it wasn’t hockey it was the stock market, and Carwood knew enough about hockey to follow a game, but almost nothing about Wall Street. He’d found Ron with his niece, helping her build a Lego house for her new Polly Pockets, and pressed a kiss to his forehead before joining in. 

Now it was their third Christmas together, and Carwood woke up to snow falling furiously outside their bedroom window and Ron’s mouth around his cock. 

“Ron,” he gasped, his hand going to Ron’s hair automatically. “What are you-”

Ron pulled off. He had an impish smile on his face, the one he wore when he wanted sex but didn’t want to say so. “It’s snowing.”

“What does that have to do with this?” Carwood asked, gesturing down to where Ron was still stroking his cock. 

“Just wanted to warm us up.” Ron leaned forward on his elbow for a kiss. “It’s Christmas, after all.” 

Ron had woken up Carwood much the same way the first time he’d slept over, back when he lived with Dick in that cramped little apartment with the blue tile kitchen floor and the sticky front windows. “I have someone I want you to meet,” Dick had told him less than a week earlier. “A friend of Nix’s. He’s looking for a running partner.”

That first early morning run had quickly become coffee and eggs at a cafe Ron liked and a sloppy hookup in Ron’s living room. Carwood had come with his shorts halfway down his thighs, Ron urging him to cover both their cocks with his hand. He’d kissed him straight after and asked what the hell Carwood did for a living to have rough hands like that, and laughed so adorably when he heard Carwood was a firefighter that Carwood had asked him out right then and there. Two days later, Carwood shooed Dick out of the apartment and made Ron dinner from scratch. He learned that Ron had an older sister and a Classics degree from Dartmouth and that while he was working as a Latin tutor now, his father was trying to get him to agree to go to law school and join his firm. Not to mention that he had a habit of biting Carwood’s lower lip while they kissed and that he flushed like crazy when he came. The next morning Carwood had discovered just how good Ron was with his mouth, and while he wouldn’t say the sex was what made them inseparable from that point on - Carwood hadn’t ever found a best friend in a partner like he had with Ron - it certainly helped them along. 

Ron worked over Carwood’s cock all the ways he knew Carwood liked best, and soon Carwood was arching his back, trying to ignore the tightening of his balls and the welcoming heat of Ron’s mouth. “Wait,” he said, pulling away before he could come. “Wait wait wait.”

Ron wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “What’s the matter?”

“Lemme fuck you,” Carwood said. He sat up and dragged Ron into a kiss, his other hand slipping down to cup his ass. Ron rocked forward automatically, which Carwood took as permission to flip Ron onto his back. He settled over him to yank Ron’s clothes off - at least enough that he could get to the important parts - and flung the blanket over both of them when Ron shivered. 

Ron urged him into another kiss before pushing him away to smirk at him. “When’d you turn into such a caveman?”

“Since you became so irresistible,” Carwood shot back as he rooted around in the nightstand drawer for the lube. He decided to forgo the condom since they’d be showering right after this, and besides, Ron liked it better this way. 

“I’ve always been irresistible,” Ron said, obligingly spreading his legs apart when Carwood put a hand on his knee. 

Carwood looked down at him, privately agreeing. Even with sleep in his eyes, hair a wild mess and in need of a shave, Ron looked outrageously beautiful. Especially this morning; Ron loved Christmas, and it showed in his bright countenance. But instead he just said, “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” and pressed his thumb against Ron’s hole, liking the hitch in his breath that that earned him. He worked him open quickly and slid in even quicker, spurred on by Ron’s eagerness and the approving noises he was making. In other moods he’d take his time to draw it out, teasing Ron to the point where he was begging to come, but today he didn’t bother playing games. He used the headboard for leverage, urging Ron to jerk himself off because he couldn’t reach from this angle, and soon Ron was struggling to muffle his gasps. After Ron came with a shudder, he drove in deeper, riding through the aftershocks, and soon spilled inside him. 

“Good?” He waited a moment before slipping out of Ron. He kissed his forehead, pushing back his hair to do so. “You’re my present this year,” he joked. 

Ron stretched, reminding Carwood of his mother’s cat. He was an outdoor cat, one that often brought home dead mice expecting a reward, and despite Carwood’s best efforts, Ron refused to consider the resemblance between them. “You are such a dork. I actually got you presents, you know.”

“Let's take a shower and go see, then.”

Ron sat up lazily, still stretching, and pulled Carwood into an open-mouthed kiss. “Merry Christmas.”

****

They showered, but just got back into their pajamas, and thirty minutes later found them sipping coffee and munching on Christmas cookies from Ron’s mother while they sorted the presents into two piles. They had a small, fat tree this year, decorated with candy canes and a copious amount of tinsel. Ron had made them Brandy Alexanders to drink while they decorated, and they’d fallen into bed that night a little tipsy and a lot handsy. 

Carwood gave Ron his gifts, and then Ron tossed him two bags and a small box, along with something heavier that he could tell was a few books wrapped together. 

So far his streak was unbroken; he always managed to pick out books that Ron wasn’t expecting and loved anyway. So he watched Ron open his first package before starting in on Ron’s gifts to him. Ron kissed him in thanks when he caught sight of the newest David Sedaris book and immediately flipped to the beginning. 

“Which one first?” Carwood asked. 

“The small one.”

So he ripped off the green paper, wondering what could be so small, because if he wasn’t mistaken, it looked like - “Ron,” Carwood breathed, looking down at the wedding band. He knew that ring, ought to from the memories of his father wearing it. 

Ron looked up from his book nonchalantly - or trying to, at least, he was flushing. “I wasn’t really sure how to do this,” he said. He set the book aside, running a hand through his damp hair. 

“This is my father’s wedding ring.”

His mother hadn’t buried his father with it. She’d kept it in the dish atop her dresser with her other rings and bracelets. It wasn’t especially fancy, just something they’d bought in a department store near their apartment, but he’d know it anywhere. 

“She figured we could get it redone a little, if you want,” Ron said. “Resized, if you need, when we go shopping for mine.”

“So sure I’d say yes?” Carwood said. His heart was hammering in his chest. They’d established they wanted to marry each other one day, but he hadn’t imagined it happening so soon. He’d thought ahead, to the house and the kid and the dog, but not the wedding itself, and certainly not the proposal. And yet he couldn’t imagine it any other way but this - quiet, and private, the two of them wrapped up together on a snowy morning, Ron in his BU sweatshirt and his father’s ring in his lap. 

Ron slipped to one knee in front of Carwood. He gathered up Carwood’s hands in his, rubbing over Carwood’s ring finger. “Well, aren’t you going to?”

“You haven’t asked me anything yet.”

Ron ducked his head down, biting his lip. He pulled Carwood into a kiss, smiling against his lips, and said, “Clifford Carwood-”

“Ron,” Carwood laughed. 

“Clifford Carwood Lipton,” Ron started again, “will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Carwood kissed Ron again, kissed his mouth and his cheeks, his forehead and chin. He hauled Ron into his lap and tipped them both backwards onto the couch. “God, yes.”

“I love you,” Ron murmured. He carded his fingers through Carwood’s hair, which made Carwood squeeze Ron’s waist tighter, liking the possessive way that Ron was sprawled over him. “I love you so damn much.”

“I’ve wanted this since we first met.” Carwood pressed his nose to Ron’s hair, breathing in the smell of their shared shampoo. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For loving me the way I love you.” Ron snorted against Carwood’s chest. “I know, I know.” He ran his hand down Ron’s spine. “To be fair, you just proposed. On Christmas.”

“At least we’ll never forget the date.”

Carwood felt like he might burst from fondness. He’d had girlfriends and boyfriends before Ron, had been in relationships that he’d thought had futures. But those experiences paled in comparison to every moment he’d shared - or would share, he was sure - with Ron. He set off a five-alarm fire in Carwood that didn’t show any signs of slowing down. “You know, I’m surprised. You’re usually much more organized than this.”

“What - Oh.” Ron shook his head. “I got caught up in the moment. You’re so distracting.”

“Now we can’t celebrate properly,” Carwood teased. “All I want right now is to fuck my future husband, but I already did that this morning.”

They had plenty of time, fortunately, before they were expected at the Speirs’, and although they ought to call his mother soon, he wanted some time to savor this just the two of them. 

“Like I said, unfairly distracting.” Ron sat up, pulling Carwood along with him. “In the meantime, we should call your mother.” 

Carwood shook his head. He kissed Ron gently, lingering, hand firm on Ron’s thigh. “Let’s enjoy the morning first.”


End file.
